


Hold me close and don't let go

by Aces_and_Roses



Series: Bad Things, Coming to a Story Near You! [3]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Everybody Lives, Gen, Happy Ending, Infection, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aces_and_Roses/pseuds/Aces_and_Roses
Summary: And wouldn’t it be ironic, Sasha couldn’t help but think, for her to survive all that she had - for her to finally escape Barrett, to somehow, despite the odds, make it back from Rome completely unscathed - only to be taken down like this, at the hands of someone she’d thought of as a friend.
Relationships: Azu & Sasha Racket
Series: Bad Things, Coming to a Story Near You! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1473476
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Hold me close and don't let go

**Author's Note:**

> For the BTHB prompt: “Cradling someone in their arms” and the arms are Azu’s?

It was nothing more than a glancing blow, certainly shouldn’t have been enough to knock her off her feet the way it did, to fling her backward so sharply that her head cracked sickeningly against the concrete wall. But it had, against all logic, and within moments Sasha’s crumpled form lay in a heap at the base of the wall, completely still, watching the steady drip, drip, drip of dark red falling from the gash on her head to pool on the already wet ground below her. Everything hurt, her head was swimming, darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision, and she could feel the bright starbursts of pain radiating from the back of her head, from the deep cut in her side. 

But even through all of that, she could still hear her; the usual brightness of her laugh, twisted into something unfamiliar and _wrong_ as her clanging footsteps brought her closer and closer to where Sasha lay. She didn’t dare move, both because she knew it would be no use (given how quickly her vision spun even when she was still), and in the vain hope that she might look dead.

That Azu would think she was dead, or even that she would think she was close enough to it and leave her to bleed out.

And wouldn’t it be ironic, she couldn’t help but think, for her to survive all that she had - for her to finally escape Barrett, to somehow, despite the odds, make it back from Rome completely unscathed - only to be taken down like this, at the hands of someone she’d thought of as a friend.

(At the hands of someone who was still a friend, no matter what happened in that moment, because it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t _her;_ it was the blue veins that had somehow worked their way under her skin, the infection that none of them had noticed until it was far too late.)

(It _wasn’t her_.)

She could only hope that she’d bought everyone else enough time.

She heard more than saw what happened next. The clanging of Zolf’s legs as he ran, and Azu’s grunt as he threw himself into her. The loud clattering of the two of them crashing to the ground, Hamid’s muttering as he cast Hold Person again, and again, and again until it finally took. The vicious words that sounded so foreign as they were hissed between Azu’s teeth.

Grizzop was crouching over her, laying on hands in that brusque way of his, but the spell fizzled out, ineffective, as Azu shouted suddenly. He was distracted, of course he was, they all were; they all knew that what they were trying to do was risky at best (and at worst, deadly, though none of them had ever dared say it aloud). But it was a chance, their only chance, a chance they had to take for Azu’s sake. They all owed her that much.

Sasha tried to move, shift her head so she could at least see what was going on, but Grizzop wouldn’t release her long enough for her to do so, muttering under his breath about a possible spinal cord injury as he laid on hands again (and again, the spell was less effective than it should have been as Hamid whimpered, the effort of keeping Azu in place obviously straining him).

Then she heard Cel, or rather, heard the sound of glass vials clinking together as they moved toward Azu, speaking so quickly Sasha couldn’t parse what they said through the haze in her head. But their tone, despite the rate of their speech, was as soothing as Sasha had ever heard it (not that the thing that was controlling Azu seemed soothed, as she continued to shout at them).

There was the sound of Cel fishing something out of their coat, of Azu struggling against the hands still pinning her down. Then, suddenly, Azu stopped, and everything was silent. Or not silent, she supposed, as Grizzop’s hands stilled, hovering just over her skin. No, the rain still pounded down around them, the sky still rumbled with thunder, she could still hear her own laboured breathing. But it all seemed dulled, muted, muffled under the absolute absence of sound from Azu. 

(Sasha had always liked silence, had found it soothing. She’d never understood the need some people had to fill it, or what they could possibly mean when they called it oppressive or uncomfortable. But just then, under the weight of that horrible silence, she thought she might be beginning to.)

She finally managed to move just enough to see what was happening, gritting her teeth against the pain her shifting caused. Next to her, Grizzop’s gaze was locked on Azu (Azu, laying on the ground, surrounded by the rest of the party, so completely, unnervingly still). Zolf stood above her now, his beard partially unbraided, likely from Azu trying to struggle away as he pinned her down. Hamid was next to him, leaning on his arm as he panted, still winded from the effort of holding Azu in place. And crouched near Azu’s head was Cel, the now-empty syringe still clutched in their hand, as still as Sasha had ever seen them as they stared down, unblinking, at Azu’s form.

Sasha tried to sit up further, hoping to be able to see Azu’s face, to see if the blue veins had changed at all, if they were starting to disappear. The moment she did, however, her vision spun wildly, and the blackness at the edges crept in further. She collapsed back to the ground, her head colliding with the wall behind her as she fell. 

The last thing she heard before the darkness finally swallowed her was the sound of Azu’s gasp, and Cel’s triumphant cry.

* * *

After what both felt like a moment and an age, Sasha was jostled awake. It was instantly clear she wasn’t still outside where she’d lost consciousness. For one, whatever she was lying on was much softer than the ground outside had been, and her head was resting on what she could only assume was probably a pillow. A bed, then, or a mattress. 

Then, the probably-pillow moved.

Sasha’s eyes snapped open as she jolted upright. Or, at least, as she tried to. The movement sent pain lancing through her torso, set her head spinning, and she had to bite her tongue to suppress a groan as she half-collapsed once more. But she didn’t stay there for long, instead rolling over to her uninjured side to try to push herself up that way. She couldn’t stay down, couldn’t stay there with whoever, _whatever_ had taken her unconsciousness as an opportunity to strike. 

Before she could struggle to her feet, something grabbed her arm. Not pulling her back, not even restraining. Just… holding.

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” came Azu’s voice, as soothing as always, so different from how it had been when she’d been taken, all the sharpness the infection had caused softened once more. Not that she believed it, not in the least; the _thing_ that had taken Azu had pretended to be her for weeks before they’d noticed.

(Weeks of gentle smiles, gentle words, even gentler hugs. She would _not_ fall for it again.)

She pulled her arm free of Azu’s grip, pushing herself up to her hands and knees despite the pain, scrambling to put as much distance between them as possible. Another jolt of pain, sharp, like something tearing, knocked the breath out of her. It felt like something in her had torn, and she stumbled forward, colliding with the wall in front of her. Or, not a wall. It certainly didn’t feel like a wall, felt more like… bars.

She was in a cell.

Trapped. In a cell. With the thing that had taken over Azu’s body.

She gripped the bars, resisting the urge to try to shake them loose. She already knew it wouldn’t work, the familiar texture of adamantine told her that much. Behind her, she heard Azu get to her feet, the sound of her armour against the stone floor almost deafening in the small room.

“Sasha-”

“Don’t!” Sasha snapped. “Don’t you dare. Don’t try to- to trick me.” She turned, pressing her back to the bars to keep herself upright, and stared up at her (not that she could see very much in the dim, flickering light cast by the torch on the wall outside the cell).

Azu froze in her tracks, hands out in front of her, palms open. “I’m not trying to trick you, I promise. It’s me, the cure worked.” She paused, brows furrowed. “Or we think it worked. That’s why we’re in here. We’re waiting out the seven days, just to be sure.”

“Then why am I here, too?” Sasha reached for one of her daggers, only to come up empty (she didn’t believe her, or at the very least didn’t _want_ to believe her, no matter how sincere she seemed).

“You were alone with me, with _it_ , before the cure,” Azu responded. “Wilde and the others are fairly sure you aren’t infected, but they couldn’t take any chances.” 

Sasha opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her fingers brushed against something warm and wet on her side as she withdrew them from her jacket (from the empty sheaths). Lifting her hand, she could see dark red staining her fingertips.

Azu must have seen it too, as she gasped, seemingly forgetting Sasha’s distrust as she rushed to her side. Sasha couldn’t even find it in herself to be angry about it as her whole world tilted, her body listing sideways, only saved from bashing her head against bars or the floor (for what would have been the third time in recent days) by Azu catching her.

Sasha didn’t fight it. What did it matter? Either she was infected, or she wasn’t. Either Azu was infected, or she wasn’t. Nothing she did would change that, so what did it matter if she let Azu lower her gently to the floor, pull her into her lap to cradle her in her arms? So what if she let Azu’s calming words lull her into a sense of security, of safety, of _home_? So she let herself drift, ignoring the wetness slowly soaking her shirt, ignoring the pressure of Azu’s hand as she pressed on the wound, ignoring her muttered prayers to Aphrodite that they both knew would do nothing, in this anti-magic cell.

She let herself drift.

* * *

The bleeding must have stopped while she’d been asleep, because when she woke next- 

Well, because she woke up at all.

The room was bright, when she opened her eyes, the light from the single torch having been bolstered by three or four more. Zolf sat on a bench by the wall, reading, Hamid asleep on his shoulder. 

Azu was asleep as well, sitting against the bars, head tilted back and light snores escaping her with every breath. Her face and neck lacked the blue veins that had stood out so starkly while she’d been infected.

So, despite it all, despite everything that had happened to her, before and after leaving Other London, and every reason Sasha had ever known not to trust a happy ending, she trusted this one.

Everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I completely happy with this? No  
> Does it end really abruptly? Yes  
> Do I think that letting it sit in my WIP folder for another three months will make it any better? No, no I do not.


End file.
